Flesh and Blood
by Mighty ANT
Summary: The Phantom's lust for flesh results in vital consequences. Post-movie -AU- Series of vignettes -Oneshot-


**Flesh and Blood**

_~Phantom of the Opera © Joel Schumacher~_

_"Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood? Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?"_

* * *

I was treated differently than most children. Or so I gather.

My mother and father—_pardon moi, _he isn't my father. He dislikes it when I call him that. I am to refer to him as Raoul—never allow me to leave the confines of the mansion and interact with others my age. Though I will see them from time to time, when one of their guests came with their children in tow. I am not allowed to leave my chambers when this occurs. But I sneak out nevertheless—no one, not even my nanny, notices. I creep in and out of the shadows, scale banisters and hide discretely within curtains. I know of every nook and cranny on my enormous home, especially those in the rooms I'm not allowed to enter.

When my mother and Raoul are home, I constantly attempt to gain their attention. When I was much younger, I would sing and dance for them, but that seemed to only make them avoid me further. They always needed to 'work', they said. My nanny was the only one who paid me any thought. Since I was an infant, she would be the one to dress me, brush my hair, read to me from my bound collection of fairytales…everything I pictured my _m__ére_ doing.

I was prohibited from leaving my floor of the mansion. I was confined to quarters most of my life, and had my nanny bring me anything I needed, and no guests were allowed up the narrow flight of stairs that lead to the highest level of the house. All of the servants knew of my existence—most either doing their best to ignore me, or created wild rumors about me. I was not allowed to speak with them either.

* * *

It was a snowy day in my twelfth year, the kind of weather that made me regret living at the topmost corners of the house because of poor insulation, and I was sitting on my bed as my nanny brushed my hair. The pale, wooden walls of my chambers gazed backed sullenly at me. The comforter below me was pale, a faded swamp green with thread poking out here and there. I wrapped one around my index finger, twirling it as my nanny—she'd told me once that her true name was Madame Giry—placed the brush down onto my old oak wood nightstand and wove my tresses into a braid. We were both silent for several moments.

"Um...Nanny?" I inquired softly. She disliked it when I called her by her first name. She hummed in response, indicating she'd heard me, and her fingers gently interlaced my hair with fingertips of rose. I was hesitant in continuing. "Today is my twelfth birthday…"

"_Oui,_ child."

"And, well…_mére _didn't mention anything…neither did Raoul."

My nanny, while strict, had raised me properly, and taught me all sorts of new words, and I was usually quite smug about my extensive vocabulary. But now I couldn't feel proud for using any of them.

"Do not fret, Angélique," she assured, tying my hair back with a red ribbon that matched my tunic. "I was at your birth—your mére may just be waiting for the correct moment to congratulate you."

I wish I had been quick enough to bite my tongue before exclaiming, "So I am not a devil child like the cook said!" The hefty man that served as our chef had never truly been fond of me….in all truth, he abhorred me.

My nanny was stunned into silence.

* * *

We didn't have many mirrors in the manor. At the most, there was the one in the foyer and another as part of my mother's vanity, but that was all. And so I was surprised when Nanny Giry placed one in my room one chilly January morning.

She didn't give me a reason why—perhaps my _mére _and Raoul put her up to it, but I did not know. I did not care, either.

It was large and oval-shaped, tarnished with age, beautiful to my mind. The silver that might have once surrounded it seemed to have discolored, but I ran my small, smooth fingers over it joyously nonetheless. I had not seen my reflection in a mirror since I was a child, a toddler. And so, I gathered all the gumption possible before turning to look into the stained, reflective glass.

My hair was undulating, pinned back so that it would not bother, falling down in cascading waves to the small of my back. Two long ringlets hung over my shoulders, slim and curled, with one lone lock of hair that refused to stay in place—no matter what my nanny did—and fell startlingly close to my right eyes, both of which were a dark, almost bottomless brown, nearly black in their endlessness. I could have passed for any twelve year old French girl on the street, until I slowly raised a hand to my face, where a large burn—not a burn, but a disfigurement, I automatically corrected myself as Nanny Giry had instructed—covered almost the entire right side of my face.

* * *

I could never understand why my mother and Raoul avoided me so. Nanny Giry said that it was because they feared what they didn't understand, and were too narrow-minded to see otherwise.

I never wished to speak badly of my relations, but my caretaker's words would ring through my mind every time I confronted Raoul, only for him to startle each time he laid eyes on me. My _mére_ fared better, but I would still hear her sobs once I left the room. They did not wish for me to be there, that I knew. The servants, my mother, Raoul, everyone in the mansion save for Nanny Giry dreamt of the day that I would leave, if ever. They feared me, hated me even.

My _mére _and Raoul had been speaking of having a child (I had eavesdropped on them one night, during my daily prowls throughout the dark manor) but they did not want it to interact with me. They did not want their unborn infant to be near me.

I had cried myself to sleep that night, though it had been expected. I could understand their worry. I didn't know if my disfigurement was contagious, though my nanny seemed perfectly at ease around me…it was perplexing. But I accepted it.

I remained silent through my mother's strained smiles when addressing me, Raoul's natural avoidance of me, and the servants mocking laughter and thorough fear.

I did not react when the maid's daughter spotted me by accident, and called me a monster.

* * *

I heard him now. Every night…a voice.

I didn't now know when he first began coming—perhaps he'd always been there, and I had barely noticed. But he was there—in the walls, the shadows, and in the cracks and corners of my home…if one could call it that.

Every night now, he came to me. I never saw him, never laid eyes on him, but I could sense him. I could easily imagine him—tall, handsome, herculean and different, like me.

He sang me to sleep, his words blanketing me with care, love, and I felt more protected that I'd ever been before. Soft and silky, he would sing, filling my chambers with his rich voice. My dreams would sing as well, warm, comforting. He was never angry or disappointed with me, would listen to my piteous sobs and reassure me. To him, I was beautiful.

No one else heard him—whether because he was of my own imagination, scouring for a friend, a companion in this cruel world to rid me of my desolation, or perhaps the reason behind it all was how far my bedroom was from anyone else, I did not know. And I did not care.

As long as he was there, constant, helpful and kind, I was content. He would spin tales in his songs once Nanny Giry had gone, and no nightmares would plague me. Only his melodious voice swam through my dreams.

I begged him to reveal himself, but he declined each time. I was given a name to call him however, something strong, stable and fitting. A name worthy of one able to ward off any monster my nightmares conjured.

He was my muse, my protector, mentor, and best friend.

He was my Angel of Music.

* * *

**_A/N: Do not ask where I got this idea from. I only blame Eldunari Liduen for raising my interest in this movie again, thus forcing me to re-watch it, and somehow come up with this. :T_**

**_The girl's name, Angélique, means 'of the angels' in French. It seemed fitting. _**

**_And I am still new to this fandom...and this will probably be the only thing I post here, but please review! No flames please, constructive critisism is accepted however..._**


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